


Most Wanted

by Kinalara



Category: Dangan Ronpa
Genre: Comedy, Gen, Kinkmeme, boys at the mall, idea from the kinkmeme, ishimondo if you squint i guess, mostly just them being friends in general though so yeah, non-despair au i guess, t for swearing and nothing else, taka accidentally shoplifts, taka can't go anywhere
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-15
Updated: 2016-04-15
Packaged: 2018-06-02 08:22:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6559195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kinalara/pseuds/Kinalara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Looking back on it now, you easily could have ignored it.<br/>Even better, you could have knocked it onto the tile floor—could have totally forgotten about it, it would have been someone else’s problem. </p><p>Someone besides Kiyotaka Ishimaru. Because that kid is physically incapable of taking anything in stride."</p><p>Fill for the Danganronpa kink meme.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	Most Wanted

**Author's Note:**

> So while scrolling through the first Danganronpa kink meme I found an old suggestion for Taka accidentally shoplifting and it was kind of the best thing ever so I gave it a shot?  
> "So Ishimaru and Mondo are both at the mall, while browsing one of the shops Ishimaru takes something by mistake and when Mondo informs him of it he flips the fuck out.  
> I’d love you to bits if he couldn’t return the object or if the cops got involved in some way"
> 
> Yeah so here it is. This is my first fill for anything so I hope it's good. :3

Looking back on it now, you easily could have ignored it.

Even better, you could have knocked it onto the tile floor—could have totally forgotten about it, it would have been someone else’s problem. Someone besides Kiyotaka Ishimaru. Because that kid is physically incapable of taking anything in stride.  
  
The keychain wasn’t even the size of your palm—an insignificant little bauble in the shape of a cat. You wouldn’t have bothered with it if it hadn’t somehow managed to latch itself onto Taka’s pants, likely from a brush into one of the kiosks as the two of you walked through the crowded mall hallways. Without thinking you reached out and tried to grab it, instead taking a nice handful of his pocket as the prefect increased his already brisk pace and threw off your aim. His walk abruptly stunted, Taka stumbled and shot a concerned look back at you.

“Kyoudai—what was that for?” He inquired, adjusting his white pants from where you’d muddled them. “You must be more careful with clothes—you could rip—“ You saw him freeze up a bit, thick brows furrowing in puzzlement as he pulled the invading item off of the garment. He eyed it intensely, looking from it, to you, back to it. “…What is this?”  
  
“What I was tryin’a grab.” You stated simply, leaning casually against a wall and crossing your arms. “Think it’s a keychain ‘r somethin’.”

Taka blinked steadily at you as though you’d just asked him a question. “…Did you put it there?” He asked, gaze now flitting back to the cat.

You felt your own brows furrowing. “Why would I wanna take it off if I _put_ it there?” You grumbled in response.  
  
“Then—how did it get there?” This question was asked more quickly than the last, his gaze honing back in on you. There was a tell-tale wideness in his eyes. You knew that look. That was a dangerous look. That was the look that preceded the prefect begging Makoto Naegi to punch him in the face after he forgot about the Lucky student’s birthday.

  
That was the look that consistently got them glared out of public places.

  
Nothing good came from that look.

  
Why was he giving you that look.  
  
“…I…don’t know?” You responded, a bit more slowly than usual. If you took your time and chose your words, maybe—just this once—you could skirt around disaster. Unfortunately, you’d found out some time ago that predicting the fallout of The Look was not an easy or linear task. Not helping was the fact that, as similar as you two could be, his train of thought and your train of thought varied widely in complexity. There could be any number of things about this situation he had latched onto—of them, you would likely be able to guess about two.

Leave it to Kiyotaka Ishimaru to make you think.

He was still staring at you, grip on the cat loose as if he would toss it away at any moment. You could tell from the trepidation mingling with anxiety on his severe facial features that he was caught somewhere between wanting an answer from you and jumping to a conclusion himself.

“I mean, uh-“ _Careful, Oowada. Just one wrong word, just one is all it ever takes. “—_ Y’probably just bumped into a kiosk and it got stuck on your pants, is all.”

You knew the instant you finished speaking that you were going to spend a lot longer in this mall today than you had intended.  
  
It was really fascinating how quickly that kid could work up tears. Not even a second ago his eyes were bone dry and now he has two individual waterfalls gushing down both cheeks, a smaller one from his nose, and spittle flying from his jabbering lips. Kiyotaka Ishimaru is, without a doubt, the ugliest crier you have ever seen in your life. You’re just lucky you’ve seen it enough to be used to it by now.  
…Actually no. That is probably the exact opposite of lucky.

But now he was blubbering and stammering and waving the cat around and all you could really catch between choked sobs was “I’M-A THEIF—A THEIF—TRASH-I-AM-DELINQUENT-TRASH--!!” The most you could do was try to wrestle him out of the main aisle and away from concerned, prying eyes--hustling him in the bathroom as quickly as you could manage, all while trying to hold his screeching face against your chest so no one would look and assume you were fucking kidnapping him. Once you managed to wrench him into the bathroom you finally released him—only to be greeted once again by his mad, garbled raving. There weren’t as many people there, but the ones that were already started to stare—prompting you to put your hand harshly over your Kyoudai’s mouth.  
  
“ _Shhhhh-ut up, you idiot!”_ You bit, glancing around. You were never good at ‘reassuring smiles’ so instead you just cranked your intimidation up to twelve and that seemed to curb the building curiosity pretty well. You looked back to Taka who— _oh goddammit not **those** eyes. _

Taka had absentmindedly perfected the ‘dejected puppy dog’ look at some point in his life, and it never ceased to fuck with you. This kid didn’t do ‘half-heartedly’. If he felt he’d done wrong, he would just fall completely to pieces no matter how mundane it was because he _cared_ so goddamned much about _everything_.

His shoulders were still shaking and his eyes were still overflowing but you couldn’t feel his screams against your hand anymore.

“You ain’t a thief— _eugh--!”_ As you pulled your hand away you took a metric gallon of mucus and saliva with you, your shoulders convulsing with a massive shudder as you shook your hand and wiped it on your loose, black pants. “—And you ain’t garbage, alright?”  
  
Only this kid could react to a reassurance as if it was an insult.

“ _Kyoudai!”_ He yelped, voice level thankfully stepping down from roaring lion to squawking macaw as he shook the cat keychain at you for emphasis. Somehow he had held onto it throughout the entire ordeal, lucky for you—lest Taka have you comb the mall for it. “I have _stolen_ a piece of merchandise! Someone’s _livelihood!”_

You had to fight the urge to mention the cat probably cost a dollar at most. Likely all it would have done was prolonged the torture.

“One should _never_ take something without paying for it, Kyoudai!” He gripped his head, tears increasing velocity where they had seemingly stalled before, “Oh-what scum I am!”  
  
You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. There was no easy way of getting out of this. “If it bothers you _that_ goddamned much, let’s just go give the stupid thing back.” You suggested, reaching for the cat only to have Taka brighten and clutch it to himself.  
  
“Ah—yes! Excellent, Kyoudai!” He gave a stern nod and started out of the bathroom, announcing: “I must turn myself in immediately!”

You barked a laugh out of exasperation more than anything. This guy really did go all in about everything. ‘Turn himself in’. Really. He’d probably stalk right up to the guy at whichever kiosk was unfortunate enough to sell those keychains and start sobbing about being a thief again and demand the owner be mad at him. Meanwhile all he’ll likely want is for the prefect to stop scaring away his customers.

Embarrassing and time consuming, probably.

A major scene, definitely.

But otherwise, harmless.  
  
You managed to eye the kiosk faster than you had been expecting. Sure enough, the keychains were hanging off the display at a decent length—perfect snagging length. As you drew near, you mentally prepared yourself for the fiasco that was about to unfold when Taka walked

right

…past it?

There was a feeling of dread pooling in your stomach that you weren’t quite sure how to place yet, but you were sure it would be appropriate very soon.

No way in hell did Taka miss that kiosk. No way. Not with how vigilant and eagle-eyed the prefect prided himself on being. Which meant that he was heading _somewhere else._

You had prepared yourself to deal with one part of the mall—one small section, one person, maybe a good few onlookers but otherwise something you could dull with booze and laugh about later.

You were not prepared for this. And the worst part is—you couldn’t prepare even if you wanted to because you had literally _no idea_ what this kid was thinking.

“Taka.” You state heavily, reaching out to grab his shoulder and catch his attention but finding him to be laser-focused in on wherever the hell his destination was. So you tighten your grip to slow him back to your pace. “Kiosk is back that way.”

The prefect gives you one of his determined smiles— _a smile would normally be a good thing why is it making you so uncomfortable all of a sudden_ \--responding simply: “Of course Kyoudai, I saw it.” And he just kept on walking like that totally answered any questions you must have had.

Well, in fact, _no._ That didn’t answer a goddamned thing. And so you pulled him back to your pace once again, an act that left you both with frustrated scowls, though Taka continued to walk.  
  
“Well then where the fuck are we goin’?!” You barked loudly, feeling your patience unraveling rapidly every second you spent in the proverbial dark.

He looked as though you’d just asked him if breathing was an optional part of life, pulling away to put his hands on his hips statuesquely as he often did when making a point.

“Well to the _police_ of course!”

Where you had allowed the prefect to keep moving despite his vague assertions before, now you stopped him dead. The jolt was so harsh and sudden that he might have toppled to the ground had it not been for the vice grip you had on his shoulder.

“ _What_?!” You barked, so loudly the crowd parted around the two of you.

Taka was never phased by your volume—not even when you had first met. So he just put his hands on his hips and stared you down eye to eye—his red to your lavender.  
“The police, Kyoudai! Where else would I be going to turn myself in?”  
  
“The goddamned kiosk you got it from!” The rebuttal was a mixture of exasperation and disbelief that mingled with your ever present temper, “—Or nowhere at all! _Like a normal fuckin’ person!”_  
  
The intensity behind his hawkish gaze increased as it always did when he was on the preaching warpath. “Kyoudai! An offense such as this should not go unpunished! A man should own up to his mistakes! That is the honest way to live!” He gave a brisk nod, “As such, I am going to reveal my law-breaking behavior to the police, after which they shall deal with me accordingly.” He took in a deep breath, “I will except nothing but the harshest punishment for my crime!”  
  
At some point, you had managed to pass anger. Pass annoyance, pass bewilderment, even shock didn’t hold a candle to your current mental state. More or less you had just gone fully numb. There was no emotional response that felt really appropriate for the distinctive, impressive brand of insanity that was being presented to you.  
And the only name you could give to it was Kiyotaka Ishimaru.  
  
There was no joke in his eyes—there never was. He was as serious about this as he was anything else. As he was _everything_ else. Everything he had just said was his true and total intention. He was going to track down a mall cop, turn himself in for theft, and demand he be punished. You could see the scene in your mind’s eye as clearly as if it were happening at that exact moment. In reality, some few minutes after your mental lag started up, Taka had started to drag you along with him in his quest.  
His asinine, unstoppable quest.

You couldn’t stop him even if you wanted to. Perhaps knowing that made it easier to just resign yourself to the insanity after you finally managed to get your bearings back and start walking on your own again. That combined with a masochistic sort of desire to see just how much more deranged the whole situation could possibly get. And from the looks of things, you wouldn’t have to wait much longer for the answer—as Kiyotaka set his sights on a nearby security guard and instantly bee-lined for him. 

“Excuse me, officer!” Came Taka’s curt call, loud enough to be heard over the buzz of the crowd. Evident by how the guard—a man of approximately 5 feet and 40 years with all the intimidation factor of a well-loved children’s teddy bear—turned promptly to regard the stout, stern, sharp-eyed prefect dragging a monstrous biker behind him like a trained hound.

His quirked eyebrows betrayed to you just how absurd that must have looked from an outsider’s point of view.

“How can I help you?” The officer inquired, giving a quick once over to the prefect and several to you—looks that were noticeably longer and more pointed. You were used to such glares from the law by now—your rather…extravagant exterior all but flaunting your status as a delinquent. It was likely that the officer assumed you were somehow to blame for whatever the fiery eyed prefect was about to divulge to him.

Boy was he in for a ride.

Taka squared his shoulders and took a deep breath before dramatically thrusting out the cat keychain on his open palm. It stopped barely inches away from the officer—who took a sudden step backwards, the harsh movement a shock to him.  
“I…have stolen this item!” He announced, voice solid and loud though you noticed his brow quirked upward a bit.

The guard blinked. Once, twice, three times. Then he looked at you with a pleading sort of confusion that you answered with a shrug. This prompted him to glance back at Taka, whose outstretched hand was starting to tremble a bit. You caught the prefect’s eyes misting over, but he was obviously trying to keep his composure in front of the officer. You noticed it was only now that the guard actually bothered to look at the item in Taka’s hand—the admission having thrown him off so fully that the item in question could barely spark his interest in comparison.  He stared at it for a good straight minute before you caught the corner of his mouth pricking up.  
  
“Son,” He sighed, shaking his head and looking back up, “If this is some kinda joke, I really—“  
  
“This is no joke!!” Taka barked back immediately, causing the guard to start. “I have taken a piece from merchandise without paying! I expect to be punished immediately!”

If the officer wasn’t unnerved or concerned before, he certainly was now. He looked completely caught off guard—eyes wide and flitting from Taka’s hand to his face to your face and back again like he couldn’t decide which of them held the answers to the bizarre situation he was in. You can’t say you blamed him for his bemusement.

No one was ever actually ready to handle Kiyotaka Ishimaru.

Eventually the guard decided you would be the more reliable source, as evidenced by the hold his befuddled brown hues had on you. (It’s a truly backwards situation when law enforcement finds _you_ the more reasonable one.)  
He was quiet for a moment before he finally spoke, voice tentative, “…Is this…true?”  
  
You shrugged dismissively once again, shaking your head. You found yourself unable to help the smirk that picked at your lips. “All I know is, I found it stuck to his pants.” You replied simply, “Probably got snagged while he was walkin’. He didn’t even know it was there.”  


The guard nodded briskly, hope resurfacing in his eyes. He was going to try to play the accident angle. He was going to try to tell Taka that it wasn’t his fault.

 _Yeah, good luck with that one buddy._  
  
At this point, you felt the need to settle in. It was likely this exchange wasn’t going to end briefly. No, no—Kiyotaka Ishimaru is not ‘brief’. So you located a nearby empty folding chair and settled in, your broad back leaned against the wall and your arms crossed across your chest.  


“Kid, I think it’s pretty clear what happened here.” The officer replied, his voice steady and slow as he reached to take the item out of Taka’s outstretched hand. He twirled it thoughtfully around his finger and chuckled as he regarded the prefect again, “Y’bumped into a kiosk and got this little guy stuck to your clothes. It happens all the time—it was an accident. Now as I much as I appreciate you being upfront, I really don’t think this is any cause for corrective action. I’ll bring it back to the owner and it’ll all settle itself out, ok?”  
  
With the way the prefect was staring with such abject horror, the guard may as well have shot him.  
  
“That---that is unacceptable!” Taka exclaimed, squaring himself up as straight as he could go as his hands clenched into white fists. “I have stolen a piece of someone’s merchandise—someone’s hard-earned income has been snatched from them! If a delinquent like me is not punished, how on earth should we expect others to uphold the law??” He stomped a booted foot and suddenly thrust both of his wrists out at the officer—who was staring at him in wide-eyed, slack-jawed disbelief. “I demand that I be cuffed and taken away immediately!”  
  
\-- _Woah woah wait, **what?!**_ ****  
  
This got you to sit back up and pay more active attention. He wasn’t serious. No. No—he was always serious. At this point, you _shouldn’t_ have been surprised—but you were. Somehow— _somehow_ , no matter how ‘used’ to his extremities you _thought_ you were—Taka always managed to find a way to top your expectations.  
Well, you suppose that’s what you get with an overachiever.  
  
It was absurdity beyond absurdity. Taka actually thought, no, _expected_ that this cop—this _mall cop,_ of all things—was actually going to handcuff and escort him to _jail_ for accidentally taking a cat keychain the size of your thumb and then _turning himself in for it_. No—even better. He was _ordering this guy to do it._ And you could tell by the strain on the guard’s facial features and the way his hands twitched and the way he examined the prefect that he was _actually considering it._ Anything to get this kid to leave him alone.  
And soon enough, he was actually doing it. He fumbled into his pocket and pulled out a pair of cuffs to clip around the prefect’s wrists.

So the two of you had come to the mall to stalk around—to kill some time, be teenagers, be casual, be fuck-all-who-cares there’s nothing else to do. And instead Taka had managed to accidentally take a keychain off a guy’s kiosk, convince himself he was a thief and a delinquent, and then frightened a mall cop into arresting him.  
When you read it back through in your mind chronologically from beginning to end—something inside of you snapped.  
  
You clapped a hand over your mouth just in time to catch an explosive bark of laughter—one that caused both Taka and the cop to glance over at you. You were doubled over in the chair, practically cackling into your hand. It had been quite some time since you had been able to laugh with such unbridled passion—something you suppose you owed to Taka.  
Granted the laughter was more out of desperate exasperation as you accepted your absurd fate.  
It was a start.  
  
The laughter somewhat died down as you followed Taka and the officer to what you could only assume was mall jail—though the sheer sight of Kiyotaka Ishimaru marching to mall jail with the solemn acceptance of a man on death row elicited another, lesser peal of laughter that you also managed to hide behind your clasped hand. _For God sakes, you’d been in and out of Juvie more times than you could count._

You were told to wait outside as Taka was presumably ‘processed’--which ended with you in an uncomfortably small room—another nearby mall official eyeing you dangerously—while Taka was sat in an even _more_ uncomfortably small room. After a few minutes, the cop that had been forced to escort Taka in stepped out of the room. He gave you a long, empty stare that you responded to with an unsteady smirk and a wide shrug. At this point you had no more to give him then you did yourself. The only way to get out of this without losing your cool was to take the whole thing as comedic—you had no answers for the guy.  
After a moment, he stepped over to the other officer. He only seemed to be able to shake his head before instructing, “Give him five more minutes and then release him. His friend can stay until then--don’t ask.” The other officer’s mouth snapped closed, instead opting for a brisk nod as his partner walked off.

Being stared at for several minutes straight caused the previous inherent hilarity of the situation to fade rather quickly, and you found yourself instead opting to glare right back at the spindly officer. He stumbled over himself as he made for the door to release the prefect, and after disappearing into the room for a moment you saw Taka emerge.

His posture was as dynamic as ever, but there was something else about him. He made a sweeping glance over the room before taking in a deep breath and eying you with a determination that felt intense even for Taka. It would have been concerning had this day not already gone as South as you presumed it could possibly go. Then again, believing that you understood Taka’s thinking process was what got you into this mess in the first place.  
You resigned yourself to simply getting Taka out of the mall and back home before things could get any worse.

Getting Taka out of the office and back into the mall had gone rather easily—though the boy was eerily quiet, his red glare trained forward. You both trudged through the crowds of people silently, casting a glimpse over at him from time to time to make sure he was still with you. Taka still hadn’t spoken by the time the two of you had made it to your bike. It had taken some doing to get Taka to agree to riding with you the first time—but now it seemed almost natural to him. Normally, the boy refused to ride without his garishly red helmet. So it was something of a shock when the prefect sternly shook his head as you made to hand him the headgear. Taken aback, you wordlessly put it in a side bag before throwing a leg over the bike and motioning for Taka to climb on as well—which he did as quietly and pointedly as everything else he’d done since he’d left mall jail.  
Your concern was just starting to reach vocal levels when Taka finally found his own voice and beat you to it. He was already pressed against your back, his mouth at your ear so you could hear his distant, thoughtful tone perfectly clear.  
  
“…So that was jail.” He murmured, and you were just about to respond with an insistent _‘No Taka, Mall Jail isn’t actually jail’_ when he continued in, somehow, the most earnest and level tone you had ever heard Kiyotaka Ishimaru use:  
“…I think I finally understand your lifestyle, Kyoudai.”  
  
Had the kickstand not still been up, the two of you would have gone crashing to the ground with the sheer force of your cackling. Over the roar of your own laughter you could just barely make out Taka’s demanding cry, “What is so funny, Kyoudai?!”

 


End file.
